


Dallas Colt

by Funtimewriter



Category: Adam Levine (Musician), Blake Shelton (Musician), The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Blake's Dallas Colt skit, Domestic Fluff, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 02:50:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15379083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funtimewriter/pseuds/Funtimewriter
Summary: Blake is trying to tell a bedtime story, but Adam thinks he can do a better job of it.





	Dallas Colt

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little one-shot that I literally wrote over the space of about twenty minutes while sending it to Country Music Freak via Tiwtter DM. It came about because she showed me a skit Blake did on "The Voice" starring himself as a over-the-top police PI named Dallas Colt. It got me thinking, I started typing, and this is the result. I'm on my way to work and didn't even read it over so if there's typos or whatever, sorry!

            Dallas Colt narrowed his blue eyes as he peered through the spyglasses. There they were, the bastards who had killed his partner.  Kelly was barely in the ground, and already they were back at it, plotting to blow up the bank and make off with millions in gold bullion.  His handsome face grew stern as he rose to his full magnificent height.  “For Kelly,” he said, his rich voice barely a whisper.  The fingers of one hand traced through his rich chestnut locks...

            _“But you have grey hair!”_

_“Yes, honey, but in this story, Dallas Colt has dark hair, like I used to,” Blake explained patiently.  “Now where was I?”_

_“Magnificent height, huh Blake?”_

_“Shut up, jackass, no one asked you!  Ok, back to the story!”_

            The fingers of one hand traced through his thick curly hair, where just a trace of grey showed, marking his maturity without making him look old in any way.  He took a deep breath, filling his rock hard chest with oxygen as he mentally prepared himself for the fight ahead.

            _“Oh for the love of...!”_

_“Shut up or get out!”_

_“Blake, you’re supposed to be telling them a bedtime story, not making up pornography starring yourself!”_

_“You think you can do a better job?”_

_“Hell yes!”_

            Dallas Colt started out, his stupid cowboy boots making so much noise on the pavement that the bad guys couldn’t help but hear him coming a mile away.  He may as well have brought along a brass band and carried a flashing neon sign reading “Hey, I’m Dallas Colt, please shoot me because I’m an idiot!”

            The bad guys looked up and of course saw him immediately because Dallas Colt is a big hairy giant and who could miss him.  “Oh no!” they exclaimed.  “It’s Dallas Colt!  Now he’ll make such a mess of things that the real hero will have to come and save the day!”

            “Too late!”

            Swinging down from above like an avenging angel, Rick Phoenix landed in front of the bad guys.  He was the very picture of a hero, dressed in tight jeans and a white t-shirt with a black leather jacket and motorcycle boots.  His incredibly handsome face broke into a smile as his sexy hazel eyes glared at the bad guys.  “You guys are going down!”

            _“This is the stupidest thing I have ever heard!” Blake complained.  “Rick Phoenix?”_

_“It’s a hell of a lot better than Dallas Colt!”_

_“No it ain’t!”_

_“Yes it is!”_

_“We want the story!”_

_“Ok, honey, just calm down!  Alright, here we go.”_

            Ignoring the moron in the too-tight jeans, Dallas Colt raced forward.  His weapon was already in his hand, already moving in one smooth practiced motion to fire.

            Except Rick Phoenix, who knows that you can’t just shoot someone for planning to rob a bank, stuck out his foot and tripped the giant idiot.  “Sorry about that,” he called.  “But you guys are under arrest.”

            How Rick Phoenix thought he was going to arrest the bad guys without a gun was completely beyond Dallas Colt, who of course did not fall.  His long limbs, graceful as well as extremely sexy, danced around the moron with ease.  He dove onto the first bad guy with a classic kung fu yell and immediately started fighting.

            _“What happened to his gun?”_

_“Shut up.”_

            Dallas knocked the first bad guy out with one powerful punch to the jaw.  He turned to the next man.

            The next man was already on the ground.  Instead of doing a ridiculous kung fu yell, Rick actually got to the kung fu. He spun and kicked like the perfect cross between Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan, and before anyone could blink, it was all over.  All of the bad guys were lying unconscious and groaning on the ground, while big dumb Dallas had punched out exactly one dude.  Rick gave Dallas a jaunty salute.  “All in a day’s work,” he announced, gracious enough to let Dallas share some credit despite not really doing much of any of the real work.

            Of course, Rick was too stupid to know that this was only the beginning! Before that tattooed jackass had even arrived on the scene, Dallas had seen them plant their bomb.  The bank would explode any minute!

            Giving no thought at all to how colossally idiotic Dallas was for watching bad guys plant a bomb instead of actually stopping it, Rick acted like a hero was supposed to act and raced selflessly into the bank.  “Everyone get out!” he called, flashing his trademark dazzling smile as the women gazed in adoration and the men secretly longed to be him.  “There’s a bomb in the bank!”

            Now that Rick had run in and caused a complete panic, proving once again just how big of a moron he really was, Dallas raced to the bomb and looked it over. His expert training in bomb defusing allowed him to know at a glance just how to defuse it.  But it wouldn’t be easy.

            Of course it wouldn’t be easy, because where the hell did Dallas get expert training in bomb defusing?  Since Rick had taken real cop courses, he studied the bomb.  It wouldn’t be easy to defuse.

            Ignoring the fact that Rick just totally copied him, Dallas carefully poked at the wires.  The bomb was a complicated device, with dynamite on one end, plastic explosive on the other, and a big scary-looking ticking clock right in the middle.  To his horror, the clock was moving towards zero! He closed his incredibly blue eyes that made women everywhere swoon and Rick only wished he had and focused. This would take all of his concentration.

            Rick wondered what sort of bad guy would make a bomb using two different types of explosives, but whatever.  His hazel eyes, which were of course way sexier than Dallas’s silly blue eyes, grew distant as Rick drew on his meditation techniques.  Pushing the urgency of the ticking bomb aside for a moment, Rick sank into the lotus position and concentrated hard.  He pictured the bomb in his mind, using his incredible skills to rapidly play through every conceivable outcome.  What was the fastest, safest way to defuse this bomb?  Only Rick Phoenix could know!

            Meanwhile, while Rick was squatting on the floor instead of actually trying to stop the bomb, Dallas pulled out his trusty Swiss army knife and opened the scissors.  A bead of sweat trailed down his manly brow as he carefully positioned the scissors to cut the green wire.  “Kelly, this is for you,” he whispered.  “And if I don’t make it, I’m honored that I’ll come to join you.”

            While Dallas was busy praying to his dead partner that no one cared about in this story because there’s still a bomb, Rick’s eyes snapped open.  The light of understanding gleamed.  “Stop!” he exclaimed, pushing the ridiculous little scissors away from the bomb.  “That’s the wrong wire!  If you cut that, it will explode!”  Drawing out the big hunting knife that real men like Rick carry instead of that stupid thing Dallas had, Rick moved forward.  “It’s the red wire you have to cut.”

            “No!” Dallas shouted, his deep masculine voice overriding the little girly whiny protests of Rick Phoenix.  “If you do that, we’re all going to die!”

            Despite the fact that Dallas was being a serious jerk, Rick was determined to save the day.  “I know what I’m doing,” he declared, smiling to calm the giant smelly hairy stupid sasquatch who clearly had no idea what he was doing.  “Why don’t you just go have a beer and I’ll finish up here?”

            “Because I’m on the job!” Dallas declared, rising to his full height to look down at the vertically-challenged figure of Rick.  “And if you’re not careful, that ridiculous chain on your wallet is going to pull the wrong wire even before you cut the wrong one!  It’s the green wire.”

            “No, actually it’s the red wire.”

            “I’m the PI, ok?  I did study this!”

            “I’m the hero and former cop, and I just saw all the possible outcomes in my mind...”

            “Yeah, that’s the rub!  If it’s in your mind, it’s not real, is it?”

            “You know what, just get out of the way so I can diffuse this bomb.”

            “No, because I’m the hero and I know that...”

            _“Come ooooon!”  Tiny feet kicked at one bed, while a stuffed animal flew at Blake and Adam from the other.  “What happens in the story?”_

_Blake exchanged a pointed look with Adam, who scowled back.  “Alright,” he said.  “Here’s what happened.”_

            Dallas, because he’s not only devastatingly handsome but also charming and witty and highly intelligent, gasped.  “Wait, we’re both right!  We need to cut both of those wires, and at the same time!”

            Rick, whose sexiness was so overwhelming that it was sometimes a physical force, was also of course a certified genius.  He nodded sagely, his perfect brow wrinkling in thought.  “Of course we do.  Let’s each cut our wire at the count of three.  We’ll cut exactly on three, so it will be one, two, cut.  Alright?”  Rick added that last to avoid any confusion, because let’s face it, cowboys spend a lot of time out in the sun and it does bake their brains.

            “Absolutely,” Dallas agreed, glad that Rick had made that distinction because sometimes the effects of ink poisoning from all his tattoos did affect his thinking.  “Alright, ready?”

            “Ready!”

            Dallas prepared his trusty scissors, while Rick angled his clearly-overcompensating knife.  “One, two, three!”

            Rick’s awesome knife sliced easily through his wire, while Dallas had to grunt and probably give himself a hernia to make his tiny scissors cut through a single wire.  And as if by magic, the clock stopped.  The bomb was defused!  Once again, Rick Phoenix had saved the day!

            Once again, Dallas Colt had saved the day!

            _“That was a good story!”  The words were nearly swallowed by a yawn._

_“Can you tell us another one tomorrow?”_

_“Sure we can!” Adam assured, tucking in covers. “Now get some rest.”_

_“Night!”  Blake flicked off the light and headed downstairs.  He grabbed a beer, tossed it to Adam, grabbed another for himself and sank down on the couch._

_“You’re an idiot,” Adam informed him._

_“And you’re a jackass,” Blake replied.  “Good story.”_

_“Of course it was!  Rick Phoenix always saves the day!”_

_“Only if Dallas Colt is around to help him.”_

_“Whatever.”_

_“Shut up and watch the movie.”_


End file.
